Future Imperfect
by Andrea Colt
Summary: A visit to Bobby's place leads to new discoveries and a quest for answers. Andrea gets her first solo hunt, and there is much angst. Fourth in the Andrea Series.


_Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke and the CW, Dead Zone belongs to Stephen King and USA. I'm only borrowing them to see how well they mix and match._

_Author's Note: This is the fourth in the Andrea series, and this one is a Supernatural/Dead Zone crossover, but the Johnny Smith I write here is Johnny as I imagine he would be in a much darker world. If you don't watch The Dead Zone, don't worry about it, the story is still mainly about Sam, Dean, and Andrea._

**Future Imperfect**

"Son of a…" Dean yelped as the tire iron slipped and he smashed his knuckles for the second time. We were pulled off on the narrow shoulder of a dirt road that twisted and angled steeply up the side of a mountain. The Impala had blown a tire and Dean was attempting to change it as I hovered nearby to help, though there wasn't much I could do besides hold the flashlight.

Sam was standing in the road about thirty feet away waving his GPS receiver in the air, trying to get a satellite signal through the dense evergreen canopy. The roads here in the deep woods of central Maine weren't labeled very well, and we weren't sure we were in the right place. We'd followed the directions Bobby had given us, but they were a little sketchy.

"If this guy can really see the future, why isn't he showing up about now with hot coffee and a tow truck?" Dean griped as he finally got the last lug nut loosened and pulled the shredded tire free.

"It doesn't work that way. He has to be touching you or something belonging or connected to you to see anything."

Bobby had sent us out here to Maine to speak to an old friend of his – someone I knew a little about.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

We'd pulled through the gate of Bobby's junkyard late in the evening three days after leaving Miami. Dean rolled the Impala to a stop between Bobby's beat up old pickup truck and an equally dilapidated old Buick. The shiny Impala looked very out of place among all the rusty junked cars, like a swan among chickens.

Bobby's house wasn't in much better shape than the cars in the yard. At one time it must have been a nice place, but the years hadn't been kind to it, and Bobby had patched it up the best he could with what he had handy. It was large, two floors and plenty of space, but badly in need of a coat of paint.

Bobby came out to greet us. He was wiping his hands on a greasy rag, and there was a smudge of black grease on his forehead just below the ragged brim of his ball cap. "Sam, Dean, it's good to see you boys again." Then he saw me, "Aw, you shoulda told me you were bringing a guest. I'da cleaned the place up a little."

"Heya, Bobby. This is Andrea." Dean introduced me as he was pulling his duffle bag out of the back seat. Sam was leaning over with his head inside the car getting his laptop bag. I walked over and took the hand Bobby offered, shaking it. His hands were rough and calloused, and his grip was firm. His eyes were smiling though as he said, "Nice to meet you Andrea. I take it that demon thing in Miami turned out ok?"

"Yeah. We provided her with a one way ticket to someplace warm." Dean said as he and Sam joined us on the porch steps, lugging their bags. I had only my backpack slung over my shoulder. Bobby clapped Dean on the shoulder and said, "Well, come on in. You boys can take your usual room. I'll get something cleaned up for Andrea. Then you can tell me what you've been up to over the last few months."

Despite the rickety appearance of the place, it was quite cozy inside. The living room was lined with shelves and piles of old books, everything from vintage National Geographic magazines to ancient grimiores, new issues of Popular Science vied for space with dusty copies of the classics. Lying on a sheet of newspaper on the coffee table was a half re-built carburetor. There was no organization to any of it, but Bobby didn't seem to have any trouble finding anything.

He cleared a stack of books from the couch and said, "Make yourselves comfortable. I'm gonna go clean out one of the spare rooms. There's beer in the fridge, and some leftover chicken if you're hungry," and he disappeared up the stairs. I wandered around the room looking at the stacks of books. Bobby had some very interesting stuff. I would have loved to have the time to read just a little of it.

Dean grabbed three beers and a drumstick out of the fridge, and Sam flopped back on the couch, stretching out his legs and relaxing. Both brothers seemed quite at home there, and I wondered how much time they must have spent at Bobby's as boys. Dean handed Sam a beer, then brought one over to where I was standing and flipping through the pages of a yellowed, leather bound book filled with woodcut images of strange beasts. I took the beer, my hand lingering on his. He smiled his heart melting smile at me and let the touch linger for a moment before pulling away. He looked down then away, remembering. He and Sam had both been like that since we left Miami. There would be a brief moment where they let their feelings break through, but then they would pull back, each one overly conscious of the other brother's presence.

Nothing had happened between me and either brother since the night of the hurricane. Nothing but interrupted kisses and longing looks. Dean had a lot more practice at hiding his feelings. He did a good job of pretending that nothing was wrong, but Sam could read him like a book. And Sam, I could see how uncomfortable he was with the situation, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

I didn't push. I tried my best to divide my attention between them equally. My presence in the boys' life had made a royal mess of things, and the last thing I wanted to do was add jealousy to the mix. This couldn't go on for much longer, we were all miserable. I'd always though love was supposed to make you happy.

Sam turned on the old radio that was sitting on the table beside the couch, keeping the volume low. The station was playing one of my favorite Doobie Brothers songs:

_Day after day I'm more confused_

_but I look for the light through the pouring rain_

_you know thats a game that I hate to lose_

_i'm feeling the strain_

_ain't it a shame_

_Give me the beat boys_

_and free my soul_

_I wanna get lost in the rock and roll  
and drift away…_

That's about how I felt. I just wanted to loose myself so I wouldn't have to deal with the mess I'd made. I was having to fight not to pull away into myself, into another fantasy world. That's how I'd dealt, or not dealt, with things back in my world when they got too hard to handle. I would find a book or TV show to dive into so I could forget for a while. I didn't want that to happen here. I didn't want to avoid this situation, I wanted to fix it, but I didn't know how.

Bobby cleared his throat from the doorway. He'd noticed the slight tension in the room. I caught him glancing from me to each of the boys, clearly he was wondering what was going on, but had too much tact to ask. "Andrea, let me show you where your room is, you can drop your bags off. These rascals already know their way around here. We can talk in the morning." I nodded and followed him. Sam and Dean grabbed up their bags and trooped after us.

My room was small, but comfortable. It was well furnished, but obviously not used often. Bobby had opened the window to let it air out, and there were fresh sheets and blankets on the bed. He'd even made an attempt at clearing away some of the dust. I dropped my backpack on the bed and turned to see which room Sam and Dean went into.

They were in the room across the hall. I got a glimpse inside. The room had a set of bunk beds, and the walls had posters of classic cars. On the dresser were a few items of the sort that would have been valuable to boys - a model car, a baseball, and a framed picture of John and Mary Winchester. They _had_ spent quite a bit of time here as boys. This was probably as close to a home as they'd ever had.

Sam was saying, "I get the top bunk this time."

"Nope, top's mine." Dean tossed his duffle onto the bunk to claim his space.

"You always get the top bunk."

"Cause I'm always gonna be older."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

I had a difficult time getting to sleep, and after tossing and turning for a couple of hours I gave up. I pulled on my jeans and slipped quietly down to the kitchen. I helped myself to another beer and went out to sit on the porch steps for a while.

I stared at the stars and listened to the crickets chirp. When I heard a board creak behind me I eased my hand toward the silver knife I always carried. I relaxed when Bobby said, "Nice night, isn't it?"

He joined me on the steps, beer in hand. "I take it you suffer from the same malady as most hunters? Rampant insomnia."

"Yeah, but honestly, I didn't think it would set in this soon. I've only been hunting for about six months. I guess it doesn't take much to bring on the nightmares."

"You've only been hunting for six months? Huh, the way you carry yourself I'd have figured you for an old hand at the game."

"I've had a couple of good teachers."

"Well, those boys learned from the best. How did you meet them, anyway?"

That was a sticky question. The boys and I had decided to leave out the fact that I was from an alternate dimension. It was just too hard to explain, and too hard to believe. We'd come up with a cover story, but Bobby was pretty good at reading people. He'd probably pick up on the fact that I wasn't telling him the whole story. I tried to gloss over it, "That's a long story. The short version is I helped them out with a vengeful spirit in Boise, Idaho. I wanted to be a hunter and they agreed to train me so I wouldn't go get myself killed."

"You must have really impressed them, then. They don't let people in that easily. It takes a lot to gain their trust like that." He gave me an appraising look, "I've noticed the way they both look at you. I don't know what's going on, and I'm not really sure I want the whole story, but I'll tell you one thing. Those boys are practically family to me. If you go toying with their hearts, you'll be the next thing I come hunting. They've been through too much already." He met my eyes as he said that, and I held his gaze.

"Believe me, the last thing I want to do is cause them more pain." I took a long swig of my beer and stared off into the night. "I just don't know if there is anything I can do at this point that won't hurt one or the other of them."

Bobby seemed to be satisfied with my answer. We finished off our beers in companionable silence. He was still sitting on the step when I decided to go back up and give sleep another chance.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The next morning I woke to an amazing thing. The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon wafted up the stairs to tickle my nose and set my stomach to growling. I slipped into clean clothes and wandered downstairs to find Dean and Sam cooking breakfast.

"Hey, get the butter while you're in there, would ya?" Sam said to Dean, who was leaned over with his head in the fridge looking for something. I admired the view for a minute, not sure if I was really awake yet, or dreaming. Sam was at the stove with a pan and a bowl of chopped onions and peppers and ham and a carton of eggs by his elbow. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up above his elbows, showing his muscles. There's just something yummy about a man who can single handedly take down two armed SWAT team members being all domestic. I poured myself some coffee and took a seat at the table that would allow me a good view of the show.

Dean straightened up out of the fridge and bumped the door shut, "Head's up!" he tossed a stick of butter to Sam who caught it skillfully. Dean was triumphantly holding up one of those little pop-open cardboard canisters of Pillsbury biscuits. He showed it to me with a cheesy grin and lift of his eyebrows, "Mornin', gorgeous." He put it on the counter and started riffling through the cabinets for a cookie sheet to put them on.

"Wow, you two are in a good mood this morning."

"It's amazing what a good night's sleep will do for a guy." Sam said as he started on the first omelet. "I don't know why, but for some reason we always seem to sleep better here." He shrugged, "So, you want cheese in yours?"

"Always." I smiled. Then I laughed as Dean twisted the biscuit roll too hard and sent biscuit dough rolling across the counter. He chased it with his hands, trying to grab it before it rolled off. He dropped to his knees and caught it just before it would have hit the floor. I clapped and cheered, "Nice save!"

"I meant to do that. It makes the biscuits softer."

"Uh-huh." Sam snorted, and we all laughed.

"You boys aren't making a mess out of my kitchen, are you?" Bobby cracked as he wandered over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of brew.

"No, sir," Sam and Dean said, in unison.

Bobby took a seat at the table across from me, and it wasn't long before we were enjoying a fantastic breakfast. The brothers Winchester had all kinds of hidden talents. I wondered where they'd learned to cook.

"So, tell me how things went with that succubus in Miami," Bobby prompted us when breakfast was done. I did the washing up while Dean and Sam told Bobby the story. They left out the more personal details, but they did tell him about the kisses that had broken the succubus' hold on each of them. I was glad my back was to them as I washed the dishes. It was embarrassing to listen to.

"So, that's what we came to see you about. What that demon said… about Andrea having a bond with both of us… what does it mean?" Sam asked.

I turned around and leaned on the counter, wringing the dishtowel in my hands as I waited for Bobby's answer. He looked over at me, then back to the boys, leaning back in his chair. His face was thoughtful, a bit of surprise in his eyes. Finally he said, "Honestly, I don't know. Demons are my specialty, not love." He pushed himself to his feet. "Let me pull out that book with the succubus stuff, maybe there's more about it."

The three of us followed him into the living room. He poked through the stacks of books and pulled out five or six of them. "If there's anything here about 'love bonds' it'll be in one of these." He plopped the books onto the coffee table and grabbed the one off the top, "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm not gonna read all of them."

"Aw, man… Nobody told me there was going to be homework." Dean joked as he took a book from the pile. "I don't suppose we can wait for the movie version, huh?" He made himself comfortable on the couch as Sam and I each picked a tome.

Since Bobby took the only other chair in the room, a well worn easy chair, the three of us ended up on the couch. I kicked my tennis shoes off and sat cross-legged in the middle, the huge old book on my lap. My knees brushed Sam and Dean's legs on either side of me. Even though both brothers were shy of making overt gestures of affection in each other's presence, one thing that had changed since Miami was that we all seemed more comfortable with casual contact.

Touching each other was somehow soothing, especially if I happened to be touching both of them at the same time. They would both seem more relaxed. It hadn't happened many times, and usually by accident and only for a brief instant, like the time we all bumped into one another as both Sam and Dean reached for the convenience store door to open it for me and I bumped into both of them. But each time it did happen, I felt like I was completing a circuit, like the two of them were supposed to be linked, and I was the conduit.

I didn't understand it. They were brothers, and they had the closest bond I had ever seen or heard of between two brothers. Why would my presence seem to link them even closer? Was it my imagination, a projection of my desire to have both of them in my life? Neither of them had ever mentioned it, so was it all in my head? Was I the only one who felt it?

I was having trouble focusing on the words on the page in front of me. My mind kept being drawn back to the questions circling my brain. I snuck a glance at each of them and they were both absorbed in what they were reading. Even Dean, who was usually full of restless energy, and seemed to be moving constantly, even if it was just little fidgets and twitches, was completely still and relaxed. The worry lines that seemed to be a permanent fixture on Sam's forehead were gone. Even Bobby noticed that something had changed. He glanced curiously at the three of us.

Then, out of nowhere, Sam said, "Really? Let me take a look." He leaned over me to see what Dean was reading. Dean, well, all of us really, looked at him in confusion.

"Dude, I didn't say anything." Dean showed Sam the passage he'd been reading, "I thought it, but I hadn't said it, yet."

That brought Sam up short. I could see a fear flashing in his eyes as he said, "But I heard you, plain as day. You said, 'This looks important, I wish my Latin was better.' I heard you," he insisted, even as the looks on our faces told him he hadn't, at least not with his ears.

Dean's eyes were full of concern for his brother, and there was a little bit of confusion and fear mixed in. Bobby was staring intently at Sam. Sam was frightened. He stood up and paced to the window, Dean's book lying forgotten in my lap on top of the one I'd been reading.

"What's happening to me?" Sam stared out into the junkyard, his arm out as if he were supporting himself on the window frame. "First visions, and now I can read minds?" He turned back and looked at Dean, his eyes pleading for answers that none of us had. Dean stood and crossed the room to him. He put a hand on his little brother's shoulder.

"We'll figure this out, Sammy. You know I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

"I know, Dean. I know you'll try, but what if you can't stop it. What if this means I'm getting closer too…" he couldn't say it, but we all knew.

"We don't know what it means. It could be nothing, just a fluke, like that cabinet thing when you thought Max was going to… you know. Look, just… We've still got time, Sam." I could see that Dean was trying to convince himself as much as he was his brother. He clenched his jaw in determination, "We've still got time, and I'm going to find a way." He didn't add 'if it's the last thing I do,' but I knew he was thinking it.

I was at a loss for words, until something occurred to me, "Sam, did you have a headache?"

He looked over at me, thought for a second, then shook his head, "No, no headache."

"Remember what we talked about in Richmond? About the headaches… there is still a chance that this is some sort of natural ability, not something demon related. I know you think it's not likely, but there is still that hope at least, right?"

Sam didn't have a reply for me, but his face said enough… he didn't have much faith in my theory. Dean latched onto it though, "She's right, Sam."

Bobby broke in then, knowing just what to do. He got us back on track, "One problem at a time. Let's find out what got that demon so excited, maybe it'll be the clue you need to figure this out."

I glanced down at the book in my lap, at the passage that had started the whole thing. My Latin was pretty rusty, I hadn't used it much since college, but I was able to get a rough translation from the passage. "Hey, Dean, you were right, this is important. Listen to this, '_In addition to the recognized Eros, Philia, and Agape of the Greeks, there is fourth type of love. This love is a rare and…_' I'm not sure about this next word, it could be '_magical'_ or '_powerful_' or both," I paused, then continued, "_bonding of souls. Two souls may be linked in such a way that recognition between them is instant and complete. These souls, united, are stronger than any individual. Energy flows from one soul to the other through the bond of such love, and many strange things may occur between two linked in such a way. The bond may appear as very strong Eros, and this is most common, but it may also manifest between friends or family members as an unusually strong Philia or Agape love. In some cases it does not manifest as love at all, only a very strong affinity. It is not know how or why two souls may be linked in such a way, but such a pairing is usually significant_."

"Uh, ok, but what are Eros, Philia, and Agape? My Greek is worse than my Latin." Dean asked. He and Sam came back over to the couch, but didn't sit.

Sam explained, "Eros is physical love, some people equate it with lust, but it's basically the sort of thing that people talk about when they fall in love with someone. Philia is what you feel for friends and family, deep affection without the physical attraction, and Agape is spiritual love. Agape is what most people refer to as true love… the sort of thing that makes for devout priests and happy lifetime marriages." He shrugged, "I've never heard of a fourth type."

"So what does that mean? Significant how?" Dean asked.

I scanned the rest of the page, "That's all there is, the rest of this is about reincarnation and selective afterlives, whatever that is." The three of us looked at each other in confusion, then, turning as one, we all glanced over at Bobby.

He shrugged and said, "Hey, don't look at me. I'm as lost on the subject as you guys are." The phone rang before he could say more and he went to answer it with a look of relief on his face. Saved by the bell.

"So do you think that's what's going on here, some kind of soul link?" Sam said as he looked at Dean, then me.

"I don't know. We need to find that passage about the succubus and see if it says anything about what sort of love it takes to break her spell, because so far that's the only hard evidence that there's anything unusual going on here. Aside from… you know… the general weirdness of sharing a girlfriend with my brother." Dean shrugged. That was the first time either of them had ever used word 'girlfriend', or even acknowledged our unusual situation out loud since the night of the hurricane.

I wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, my heart leapt for joy that he'd used that word to describe our relationship, but on the other hand, there was still the weirdness. I was saved from dwelling on it though by Bobby returning to the living room.

"That was an old friend of mine. Someone I haven't heard from in years, and wasn't even sure if he was still alive or not. He's someone who could probably help you out. In fact, that's what he was calling about. He's…" Bobby paused, as if looking for the right words, "He's talented. Like you, Sam, or like that friend of your dad's, what's her name? Colorado? Anyway, he's clairvoyant. He can touch things or people and he see stuff about them. Sometimes even the future. He just called and asked if I knew two hunters named Sam and Dean who might be traveling with a woman." Bobby paused a beat as the boys and I shared a puzzled glance. "Last I'd heard, he'd shut himself up in a cabin out in the mountains because his visions were getting to be too much. He's been a recluse for years now, but every once in a while he'd call up a hunter out of the blue with some piece of information or a job that needed to be done. But it's been at least three years since anyone's heard anything from him. Most hunters just know him as the Oracle. He wants you boys to come and see him. He says it's important."

"An Oracle?" Dean was incredulous, "Well, thanks Morpheus, but I think I can save us the trip." He turned to Sam, "Hey, Sam, there is no spoon."

"Ha, ha. Very funny," Sam rolled his eyes.

"This is serious, Dean. He's the real deal. He pulled my butt out of the fire once, and I owe him my life. His name's John Smith. He lives out in the woods in Penobscot County, Maine."

I nearly fainted, and my mouth kicked into gear before my brain did. "Johnny Smith? You're kidding, right?" I couldn't believe my ears. Bobby's description of his abilities sounded about right, but… John Smith was from another TV show altogether. How could he exist here?

"You know him?" It was Bobby's turn to be surprised.

I had to think quickly if I didn't want to have to explain all about my dimension hopping, "No, I, uh… I read about him in the tabloids a bunch of years back. He solved a missing persons case or something, right?"

"Yeah, that's him. He used to work with the county sheriff out there quite a bit." Bobby nodded, "He never liked all the publicity much, though."

Sam and Dean were looking at me curiously, though. They knew my story, and I knew I was going to be grilled about this later.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

So that's how we ended up two days later with a flat tire on a mountainside dirt road in backwoods Maine.

Sam wandered back over, "No luck, the trees are just too thick. How's that tire coming?"

"It's coming. Few more minutes and we'll be rolling again." Dean grunted with effort as he tightened down the lug nuts on the spare.

I glanced over to Sam, about to ask him a question, just in time to see him drop the GPS and put both hands to his head. I hurried over and put my arm around him to support him as his knees buckled, "Dean!"

"Sammy!" Dean was there almost instantly helping me support his brother as a vision ripped through his brain. Dean's eyes never left Sam's face, and I could see the pain in them as he held his brother. It cost him so much to see his brother in agony and to not be able to do anything about it. He looked almost… lost. "Hang on, Sammy. I've got you, baby brother. I've got you."

The vision was over almost as suddenly as it had begun, leaving the tall young man dizzy, weak, and disoriented. We helped Sam to the back seat of the Impala where he sat with his feet hanging out onto the ground. Dean pulled his flask from his jacket and offered Sam a swig.

I crouched low by Sam, and put a hand on his knee. Dean's leg brushed mine as he handed Sam the flask. Almost as soon as he touched me it was like a switch being flipped. Dean jerked back and stared at Sam. "Don't even joke about that," he said, suddenly angry.

"What?" I asked, looking from him to Sam in confusion. "Don't joke about what?"

"What he just said… that he'd rather shoot himself than have another of those visions." Dean was shaking.

"Dean, he hasn't said anything."

"No, but I was thinking it." Sam was staring at his brother in amazement. "You read my mind, Dean. Just like I read yours back at Bobby's."

"Uh-uh, no way. The psychic thing is all yours, bro. I couldn't have…" Dean trailed off eyes wide. He walked a few steps away, ran his hand down his face as he pulled himself together, and then turned back to us, "This is too weird. What the freaking hell is going on now!"

Realization was starting to dawn on me. "Dean, come here. I think…" He came closer and I grabbed his hand, then I grabbed Sam's. Sam's eyes went wide and he stared at Dean.

"You were just thinking about the time you pulled me out of that lake, when the water spirit grabbed my ankle when I was like thirteen." Sam's eyes went wide in surprise, "You knew I was in trouble before you heard me yelling?"

"No," Dean's denial came almost too quickly. "I just knew you well enough to know you'd get yourself into trouble." Then it was Dean's turn to be surprised, "That's why you were by that lake. You were trying to kill that thing on your own? Dude, that was really stupid. You didn't need to try to impress Dad and me like that. You nearly got yourself killed." They were so caught up in the shared memory that it took them a minute to realize what was happening. As soon as they did they both pulled their hands away from me.

They stared at me like I'd suddenly sprouted wings and devil horns. "How did you do that?" Sam demanded. His look of suspicion was like being stabbed in the heart.

"I didn't. At least I don't think I did. I was just the link. Don't you feel it? When I touch both of you at the same time it's like… I don't know. I don't know how to describe it. I guess it's like some part of each of you is reaching through me to meet in the middle."

"Come again?" Dean was gaping, not sure he could believe what I was saying.

"Somehow I'm acting like a link between the two of you. I don't know how, but I was touching both of you back at Bobby's, when Sam read your mind. I was touching you both when you read his. I…" I trailed off, words deserting me. I shrugged. I was as puzzled as they were.

Sam's expressive face was working overtime as emotions flashed across it. "Um, ok, this is just a little too much to process right now, and we've got to go."

"Go! Go where?" Dean demanded.

"My vision. I saw a man being killed. Ripped to pieces."

"Where? How? Who? Need some details here, Sammy."

"I don't know. It looked like he was being torn to bits by nothing. Something invisible, maybe? The man was in front of a cabin. There was nothing to give me a location."

"Can you tell me what the man looked like? Any details?" I asked.

"He was blond, had a scruffy beard, like he hadn't shaved in a week or two. Blue eyes. Oh, and he walked with a limp… He had a cane with a silver top."

"Damn, that's Johnny." I sprung to my feet, "We've got to get moving."

Dean grabbed the jack and tire iron and tossed them in the back seat floorboard. I dashed around the car and got in the passenger seat as Dean slid into the driver's seat and started the Impala. He pulled out onto the road, spitting sand and gravel from the tires as the heavy old car found traction on the dirt road.

"I hope we haven't passed the turn off already." Sam and I were scanning the trees for our turn as Dean concentrated on keeping the car on the road.

"There, that's it!" I sounded off as I spotted the lightning scorched tree that marked our turn. Dean slowed and pulled onto the narrow side road. It was barely more than two ruts, nearly overgrown with tall grass. If this was the way to Johnny's place, he didn't get many visitors, and didn't go out much himself. The road looked like it didn't see much use.

Bobby had said he'd become a recluse because his visions were becoming overwhelming. This wasn't the same Johnny Smith that I'd watched on so many episodes of The Dead Zone. This was a version of Johnny Smith who'd had to endure visions about the nightmare things that hunters like Sam and Dean dealt with. This was a Johnny who lived in a much darker world. I liked the Johnny that I knew from TV, and I hoped that this Johnny wouldn't be too changed. But I wasn't getting my hopes up.

Dean and Sam had grilled me for information about Johnny for most of the two day drive to Maine. They wanted to know everything I could remember about him. I described the basic plot of The Dead Zone to them, and I told them about how Johnny had been in a coma, and when he woke up after five years he had the ability to touch things and people and see stuff about them. By the time we got to Maine they knew almost as much about him as I did.

Dean eased the Impala through the brush. The dense woods crowded in darkly on either side of us.

"Man, talk about remote. You just had to tell me this guy was a character from a Stephen King novel, didn't you. I'm expecting the Walkin' Dude to pop out of the trees at any moment."

Sam looked over at Dean, one eyebrow raised in surprise, "You've read The Stand?"

"Dude, I read." Dean sounded offended. "Besides, it's Stephen King… as far as Dad was concerned it was practically homework. Lucky for me I like scary stuff."

"It is kind of creepy. I've read almost everything by King, and I don't remember a book called The Dead Zone. I mean, Stephen King exists in both worlds, but one of his characters is real in this one?" Sam was trying to figure out the logic of it.

"Have you read The Dark Tower series?" I asked, "In the last book King writes himself in – Roland actually meets him. His ideas about the nature of reality seem to be… well, real. Each story has its own world, and sometimes they overlap. But if I see an ad for Nozzola Cola I'm gonna seriously start freaking."

"I second that motion." Dean agreed. "Looks like we're here."

The trail broke through into a clearing, and Dean eased the Impala to a stop, killing the engine so we could listen. It was quiet. The simple cabin that stood in the center of the clearing was peaceful. There was a stream of smoke drifting from the chimney, and the window was lit with flickering firelight.

"Cozy. Wonder if the three bears are at home?" Dean quipped.

As we watched the front door opened, and Johnny Smith stepped onto the porch, limping only slightly.

He looked older, more worn than the TV Smith I was familiar with. He was wearing a red and black plaid flannel over a black shirt. His jeans were worn thin on the knees and had an oil stain near the right pocket. His face was covered with the long stubble of a newly started beard. He looked at the Impala for a moment, and then waved us in, "Well, come on if you're coming."

Dean started the car again and pulled up the last few yards to the cabin. We piled out of the car.

"John Smith?" Sam asked.

"The one and only. You must be Sam and Dean. I'm sorry, I haven't caught your name." He looked at me as we walked closer to the cabin.

"I'm Andrea Colt." I gave him my favorite alias. I'd ditched Parker almost as soon as I'd arrived in this world. It was lying on the side of the road somewhere in Idaho along with my wedding ring. I held out my hand to shake, and then pulled it back almost as soon as I'd done it, feeling foolish. "Sorry." I said, sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it. It's a hard habit to break." He smiled and turned back toward the cabin, "Come on in. We've got a lot to talk about."

He led us into a humble, cozy living room. The place was neat, but sparsely furnished. It was definitely the home of a bachelor, there were very few decorative touches. There was a fire blazing merrily in the fireplace, and there were four beers, dripping condensation, on the table waiting for us. "So. A Colt and a couple of Winchesters. That's quite an arsenal. That's good, because from what I've seen the world is going to need some big guns in the coming fight. Make yourselves comfortable. I'm sorry for the poor state of my place, but I really don't get much company out here." He limped around the table to one of the chairs and had a seat, popping open the top of his beer bottle.

Dean and Sam glanced around the place, and I knew they were checking the layout for other exits, potential weapons, and any sign that things weren't as they seemed. Bobby had vouched for Johnny, and I knew he was one of the good guys, but to the boys he was a stranger. Besides, old habits die hard.

I couldn't help but wonder again how different this John's life must have been. What had happened to Sarah and Walt and JJ? Had he really given up his friends and family and his huge old house for this lonely cabin in the woods, or had he been forced out here? Were his vision so much worse in this reality? Stronger, maybe? He looked tired - worn down by some burden that he carried. I remembered that the Johnny Smith that I was familiar with had seen a fiery nuclear Armageddon. What sort of end did this Johnny see?

"You've seen it, haven't you? The war that's coming?" It was more of a statement than a question. I was pretty sure I already knew the answer. I took a seat across from him, and Sam and Dean pulled out chairs on either side of me.

He nodded slowly the line in his face deepening, "I have. And I've been trying to figure out what to do to stop it. Calling Bobby and asking him to send you three out here is the first step, one of the small things I can do now to try to avert what's coming."

"Do you know all of it, or just puzzle pieces?" I asked.

He looked at me curiously, "Just bits and pieces. You've described it pretty well, it's like a puzzle. Actually it's more like a giant Rube Goldberg Machine. It has already been set in motion, and I have to figure out how it works and change the finale before it runs its course."

"So where do we fit in?" Sam asked.

"Well, that's just it. I'm not sure. I was having visions where you two played a heavy part in helping to prevent the worst of the war. Things would have still gotten bad, but it wouldn't have been total devastation. But about six months ago something changed. Your roles changed somehow, and it's connected to you." He looked in my direction. "Somehow when you started traveling with Sam and Dean the future changed. I've got to try to put it back on course. Maybe even make things come out better." He shrugged, "I always was an optimist."

"So my being here has royally screwed things up? I mean I know that Sam and Dean have taken a different course from what they were supposed to, but I didn't think…" I trailed off as I realized I'd given away too much. Even the brothers didn't know that I'd read spoilers about the episodes I hadn't seen, that in effect, I knew a little of the future that was supposed to have happened but didn't.

"Didn't think what?" Dean asked, "That it was important enough to tell us?" He was angry, but trying to stay calm. "How did you know that we were supposed to be doing something different?" Sam was watching me as well, waiting for answers.

I looked over at Johnny, uncertain of how much to say in front of him, but I realized that he was going to find out anyway if he touched me, "I read spoilers for the episodes that hadn't aired yet." I looked down at the table, "I didn't realize that my being here was going to change things… if I had I would have gone my own way back in Boise and made sure you two went straight off to L.A." I couldn't meet their eyes, "I don't know all of what was supposed to happen, just little bits and pieces."

"Episodes?" Johnny broke in, confused.

I looked up and caught his eyes, "It would probably be easier to show you than to tell you." I help my hand across the table and let him make the choice. He hesitated a moment, then took my hand. He jerked, and his head turned to the side, like he was looking at something only he could see. It only lasted about thirty seconds and he was back and released my hand.

He stared at me, not speaking. His large blue eyes were open wide in astonishment. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again and leaned back in his chair. Taking a long swig of his beer he turned over what he'd seen. I could see that it had affected him deeply, and I wondered how much he had seen. Had he seen the life that he could have been living?

Sam sat back, giving Johnny time to process it all, but Dean was impatient. "Andrea. What was supposed to happen?" He leaned in, looking me in the eye. His green eyes demanded the truth.

"I… I don't know all of it. I know that you went to Hollywood and took care of a haunted movie studio, and then you got yourselves arrested on purpose to take care of a ghost in a prison at the request of an old friend of your father's. You ran into Agent Hendrickson, and you escaped with inside help." I looked down, unable to see his eyes for the next part. My finger moved on the wooden tabletop, making designs in the water that had dripped from my unopened beer, "And I know you had a run-in with a Djinn, and you ended up in a world where your mom was still alive, and you'd never been hunting – but you and the alternate version of Sam didn't get along." I looked up again, "but before you ask – no - I don't know why you chose to come back. I only know that you did. There were supposed to be two more episodes after that, but I didn't read any spoilers for those. I only know that they were titled All Hell Breaks Loose parts one and two, which sounds pretty ominous. I think… I'm not sure, but I think you were supposed to find out what the demon's plans for Sam are in those episodes."

Johnny spoke up then, "So you've watched all of us on TV. I've seen some strange things over the years, but this takes the cake." He shook his head as if trying to shake off a chill, "But I can tell you one thing. Your being here hasn't changed Sam's connection to the demon - only the outcome."

Sam, who had been sitting quietly until then, listening and thinking, finally spoke up with a question of his own. He spoke slowly, softly, as if he was afraid of what the answer might be, "So what is my connection to the demon? Am I going to become evil?" His eyes were shining with emotion, begging for a happy answer.

"I don't know, exactly, what your connection to the demon is, and I'm going to try my best to make sure you don't become what he wants you to." Johnny's voice was clear and sincere, but his eyes were clouded and uncertain. He knew something that he was holding back. Dean and Sam were caught up in their own emotional turmoil, and didn't catch it, but I saw. Johnny's flinch was brief, but it spoke volumes. There was something terrible in the future, in our future. It was something that we were going to have to face blind, because he wasn't going to tell us.

I was glad I couldn't see the future. Cassandra's curse was a terrible burden to bear. Johnny new that something bad was in store for us, and I was pretty certain he couldn't tell us without messing up the future. Whatever it was it had to happen. I already knew more than I wanted to because of my unique perspective. I had watched this man on screen for years. I knew how his power worked, and I knew him well enough to read all of that from a look on his face that lasted less than a second.

Dean finally twisted the top from his beer and took a long swig. He slouched back in his chair, and I could imagine what was going through his mind. He had missed out on a chance to see his mother alive and happy, and it was my fault.

We were all silent for a long moment, until Dean got us back on track, "Ok, so what can you tell us? What are we supposed to do?"

Johnny took a long beat to consider his words. "There are pieces of the puzzle that are still missing. I was hoping that I could get them if I touched one or both of you. I can't guarantee that I'll learn what I need to, you understand. My power doesn't work that way. But I have to try, if you'll allow me?" He watched their faces, looking back and forth between them.

Sam immediately stuck out his hand. "I want to know. I'm tired of worrying, of playing guessing games." His eyes were dead serious, and his face was set and determined. He may have been afraid of the answers Johnny might give him, but he wasn't going to back down from them.

With a nod, Johnny leaned forward. The two men's eyes met as Johnny took Sam's hand, and both of them seemed to go away for a minute. Dean and I watched carefully. Dean was concerned for his brother, and so was I. I'd expected Johnny to space out, but Sam shouldn't have. Something unusual was going on.

The trance, or whatever it was, didn't last long. Two minutes, maybe. When it was over they broke apart with a jerk. Sam stared straight ahead at first, and then his eyes were moving back and forth as if he was trying to make sense of whatever it was he'd seen. With a burst of sudden movement that startled all of us he was on his feet and heading for the door.

Dean stood to follow him, but Johnny held up a hand, "Wait. Give him a minute, he's a little disoriented. I didn't expect that to happen."

"Expect what? What did just happen?" Dean demanded, leaning closer to Johnny he said, "If you did something to my brother…"

"No, he's fine. I've shared visions with another psychic before; I just wasn't expecting it to happen this time. He's probably a little shaken by it is all… I didn't think to prepare him for it." Johnny tried to calm Dean. He was hiding something, too. Something he'd seen.

"I'm gonna go check on him." Dean strode to the door. He glanced back at me briefly, and then went outside to find his brother, leaving Johnny and me to sit in awkward silence.

"Did you see what you needed to see?" I finally asked, unable to bear the silence.

"I think so." He nodded. He stood and limped over to the fireplace to put on another log. After he added the log he leaned one arm on the mantle and rubbed his hand across his face and chin. "It would have been better if Sam hadn't seen it. I…" He sighed, "It would have been better for all of you if you didn't know." He turned back to me, "Some things have to happen, and they will be very hard for the three of you. Knowing about them, you may try to change what happens, and if you do that, it will be very bad for the rest of the world." He slowly came back to the table, "I hope that Sam is smart enough not to tell his brother what he saw. I feel certain that that young man has the fortitude to face his future, but I'm not sure if Dean does or not."

I was silent. There wasn't really anything I could say. I understood why Johnny couldn't tell what he'd seen, and I was filled with dread by what his words implied. I could ask, voice my fears and let him confirm or deny them, but I didn't dare. I didn't really want to know.

Johnny was quiet for another long moment, and then he spoke again, choosing his words with great care, "There will come a moment, in the not too distant future, when Dean will be wracked with grief. It will go against every instinct, but it is very important that you leave him alone. You'll know the time when it comes, and it will be very difficult for you to go, but there is something that he has to do, and he'll only do it if he's alone." He looked me in the eye, and I could see the pain there, "You have to promise me, when he tells you to 'just go,' you'll go." He watched my face, and then explained further before I could answer, "What he does will seem like the act of a desperate man, it will be rash, and, under other circumstances would be a very stupid thing to do, but in the end it will save the world. He won't do it if you are there to comfort him. That's how you being here changed things, and the only way to change them back to the way it was supposed to be is for you to desert him in his time of greatest need. I'm sorry to ask this of you. I hope you can understand why I'm asking it, and I hope that you can forgive me when the time comes."

I thought about what he said, my heart falling into my stomach. Would I be able to walk away when Dean needed me the most… was I that strong? Would knowing that the fate of the world could depend on it be enough to make me walk away? What was coming? Why us, why did we have to be the heroes? But in the end I nodded. A line from Casablanca played in my head, "_The happiness of two little people doesn't amount to a hill of beans in this world."_ "I'll try. All I can promise is that I'll try."

I was saved from having to say more by the door swinging open. Sam came in, looking a little pale, but calm. Dean followed, and I could tell by the set of his jaw and the tenseness of his body that he was far from calm, but trying to control his anger and worry. He stood protectively beside Sam as Sam said, "Mr. Smith, can we talk for a minute… Outside, please." His voice was heavy with emotion, and he wouldn't look anyone in the eye. When Johnny nodded and stood he turned and went back out the door. Dean's hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out to his brother, but he stayed the motion, striding angrily into the room instead. He brushed past Johnny with barely a glance as the psychic passed him on the way out.

My eyes were locked on Dean's green eyes. I tried to read the emotions playing there beneath his cracked mask. I was frozen with uncertainty, I didn't know whether to comfort him or leave him be. He was a very hard man to read.

He came to the table and started to pick up his beer to take a swig, then, overcome by frustration, he flung it into the fireplace instead. It shattered, spraying glass and beer into the hissing fire roaring there. He sank into his chair, rubbing his face with one hand.

I moved then. I stood and went to him, slipping my arms around him, trying to take some of the burden from his shoulders. It was a measure of just how shaken up he was that he not only allowed the embrace, but leaned into me, pressing his face into my shoulder as I stood in front of him and wrapping his strong arms around my waist.

"I hate this. He won't tell me what he saw. Whatever it was - it was pretty bad… How am I supposed to keep him safe if he won't tell me what's coming? He's hurting, and I can't fix it… I'm supposed to fix it… But I never can. I can't bring Jess back for him, I can't take his destiny from him, I can't blow on his scrape and make it feel better like I used to do when he was just a kid… not this time. This is so much bigger than a scraped knee. I don't know what to do." His breath caught as he fought down a sob.

"Shhh… Dean…" I wanted to lie to him, to tell him that everything would be ok, but I couldn't. I knew it was going to get worse before it got better. I was shaken myself to see strong, stoic Dean so vulnerable. The tremble in his voice tore at my heart. I just held him, gave him time to rebuild the walls that let him cope with the hard world. A tear slowly rolled down my cheek to drip into his short brown hair.

We stayed that way, clinging to one another like refugees, for a long time.

When he finally pulled away he turned his face from me and ran a hand across it so I wouldn't see the tear tracks. "I'm sorry…" He said, embarrassed by his fears.

"No, don't be… never apologize for your tears. If anyone has earned the right to cry a little it's you." I wiped away my own tears, "Besides, I was right there with you." I tied to smile, to lighten the mood a little, but it came out as a grimace. "We'll find a way through this. We're good at that." I handed him the rest of my beer, he needed it more than I did.

"I don't know what I'd do if something happened to that kid, he's like part of me. It would be like losing a limb." Dean mused darkly, "Worse."

"That's truer than you realize," came Johnny's voice from the doorway. "Sam and I compared what we saw, and he didn't see the entire vision. He saw the future, but I saw some of the past."

Sam followed Johnny in. He glanced toward Dean, but was unable to meet his eyes. He slouched against the arm of the couch as Johnny finished what he was saying.

"I saw another alternative to this reality… the path that you were supposed to have taken, Dean, and I saw what changed it." He went to the fridge and brought out more beer, "This is going to take a bit of telling, and, I don't know about you, but I could use another drink." He handed one to me and another to Dean and Sam. Making himself comfortable at the table again he launched into the tale, "It all started soon after you were born Dean, when you were maybe a year old. Your mother wanted another child, but the doctors told her she couldn't have another. Your birth had caused some damage to her womb and she was unable to become pregnant again. She was desperate for another child. She had dreams of a brother for you, literally. She'd been dreaming about a second son, and she was determined that those dreams would become reality. I don't know why she was having those dreams, but I have my suspicions that they are somehow connected to the demon.

"She went to doctor after doctor, but they all told her the same thing – that she'd never bear another child. Eventually she turned to less conventional experts. She went to a Voodoo mambo who told her that he could help her have another child. He did a ritual that used three drops of your blood, Dean. What Mary didn't know, though, is that she wasn't supposed to have a second child… it wasn't fated. To get around that, the mambo took a little piece of your soul and used it to start Sam's… like a cutting from a rose bush. The missing piece of yours grew back, and Sam was conceived and his piece of soul grew as he did. You each have your own souls, but they are the same soul. I don't know how to explain it better than that."

Sam's eyebrows were knitted together in puzzlement, "But, we're completely different… how can we be different people with the same soul, that doesn't make any sense."

"Well, to use my earlier analogy, if you take a cutting from a plant and allow it to root, it becomes its own plant. It's not identical to the one it came from, even thought it was originally a part of its mother plant. I'd imagine you both do have a lot of similarities… finishing each other sentences, doing or saying things at the same time, maybe even an uncanny ability to know when the other is in trouble or feeling some strong emotion."

Sam and Dean met each other's eyes. They did something I'd seen them do a thousand times over the last six months, but this time it had a whole new significance. They seemed to carry on an entire conversation without ever saying a word, just as if they knew what the other was thinking.

"Something else you have in common is your destiny. Dean was destined to be a hero. Even if nothing supernatural had ever happened to your family, he would have been drawn to a job that would let him save people… a policeman, soldier, fireman…" Johnny smiled, "That showed up in you as well, Sam. Even when you ran away from hunting you still picked a career that would have let you help people. That's your true destiny. This stuff with the demon…" Johnny searched for the right words, taking another tack, "There's a sort of cosmic balance to the universe." Dean snorted incredulously, and Johnny continued, raising a hand to stifle Dean's smart remark before he could get it out, "I know, it sounds corny, but it's true. When your mom went to that witchdoctor they tampered with the balance by causing another force for good to be born, so evil got its chance to play catch-up. Sam, you were picked by the demon because you had already been touched by magic, and therefore were more susceptible to its influence. All of the demon's victims were chosen for that reason. Once you come into contact with the supernatural it marks you, makes you more open to other experiences outside the norm." Johnny shrugged, "I don't know how or why, it just does… I've seen it happen. Some people go their entire lives without ever seeing a ghost, but once someone has an encounter they tend to have more and more.

"Old Yellow Eyes doesn't even realize it, but he's basically the universe's way of making sure that Sam here has the choice to go either way. He's a wild card… he could be a force for great good or great evil." He looked Sam square in the eye, "I hate to bear bad news, but the fate of the world rests squarely on your shoulders, Sam. Lucky for you you've got such strong people to care about you and to help you." He motioned to Dean and me with his beer bottle before he took another swig.

We were still processing the information in stunned silence when Johnny stood up, "Well, I don't have much room here, but you're welcome to what I do have… I'll bring out some extra blankets."

"Wait." Sam said, "There's something else. Before we got here I had a vision of my own. You're in danger, and we've got to figure out how to stop it."

Dean perked up a bit when Sam reminded him of that. Here was something he knew, something he could do something about. Something he could fight.

Johnny shook his head, "You don't have the time - you've got to be in Illinois by the day after tomorrow, which means you have to leave first thing in the morning."

"But I saw you die! What's in Illinois that could be so important?" Sam asked.

"The fate of the world, my friends, the fate of the world," was all Johnny said as he limped into the next room to get together blankets for us.

"Man, this friggin' Yoda crap is gonna drive me nuts!" Dean quipped as he plopped onto the couch beside his brother.

"Actually, I'm starting to understand why seers speak in riddles," Sam commented morosely, "Some things it's just better not to know."

"Yeah, like this whole soul thing. It's bad enough you borrow my t-shirts and stretch them out, but you gotta borrow my soul, too?" Dean's eyebrow went up, and the jibe was said with an affectionate smirk.

Sam snorted, "Sure explains a lot, doesn't it?"

Dean's face went thoughtful, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it does." His smirk returned, "But this doesn't mean we're going to start dressing alike or anything."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

I didn't want to interrupt, but a thought occurred to me, "So, if we're not just going to leave in the morning and let Johnny die, we'd better get to work. If we can figure out what it is, I can stay and take care of it while you two go on to Illinois. I can catch up with you later."

It was as if my words reminded them of my presence. They both turned to look at me. "I don't know about you staying on your own, but you're right – we're not going to just leave and let him die." Sam declared. "First thing we need to do is figure out what it is."

"Well, we can probably rule out Claude Raines." Dean quipped as he pulled their dad's journal out of his inside jacket pocket. "Tell us what you saw again, Sam. There has to be some clue we can work with."

"It wasn't much, really, just Johnny standing in front of the cabin. It was night… Oh! The moon was full, so that gives us a time."

As soon as he said that I went to the window and peeked out, "Uh, guys, the moon is almost full now… I'd guess it will be full tomorrow night, and will look full the next night too, so we don't have much time to figure this out."

Sam nodded. He was wracking his brain for any more information he could dredge up. I could see his eyes moving back and forth as he reached for the memory, then he suddenly squinted them closed and grimaced, grabbing his head. Dean and I were at his side in a flash as another vision floored him. He cried out in pain. Dean dropped to the floor beside his brother and cradled Sam's head as the vision rode him.

It was over quickly. Sam opened his eyes and blinked away the pain. He tried to sit up but Dean pushed him back down, "Whoa, there, Nostradamus, take it easy."

"I'm ok. I think. That was a little worse than usual, but it's over now." He struggled to sit up again, and this time Dean helped him. Sam leaned back against the couch, and Dean stayed on the floor next to him, ready to catch him should he wobble. I grabbed Sam's unopened beer from the little table beside the couch and handed it to him. He took it and nodded his thanks to me.

He didn't speak until he'd taken a long swig. His voice was a little shaky, "I'm not sure, but I think I made that happen." He was looking down at the braided throw rug as he spoke, elbows on his knees and his forehead resting on the hand that was holding the beer. Then he looked up and met his brother's eyes, "I was trying so hard to remember the vision, and I think I made myself have another one by accident." He rubbed his forehead, "I don't think I want to do that again."

"What did you see?" I asked.

"Pretty much the same as the first one. Johnny was standing in front of the cabin, on the porch. He was looking around like he'd heard something and was trying to figure out what it was. He called out, I think it was 'hello?' but there was no sound so I'm not sure. Then something tossed him back against the wall, and long claw marks ripped down his chest. Then more and more appeared, but there was nothing there. He was being attacked by nothing."

"Like Meg's pets? Those Daevas?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, "Could be. But there are plenty of other things it could be, too. We need more info."

Dean levered himself up onto the couch and grabbed the journal from where he'd dropped it in his haste to get to Sam's side. He flipped it open. "One of you two braniacs had better grab a laptop, we need to list off all the invisible killers we can find. Unless we can find more clues, it looks like it's going to be by process of elimination."

"I'll go." I offered and got to my feet just as Johnny came back with the blankets.

"Here you go. Took me a while to find them." He dropped them in a stack on the couch, "I'm afraid I don't have any extra pillows, though." He looked at everyone's faces in turn, "What did I miss?"

Dean and Sam looked at one another, and then Sam explained, "I had another vision."

"And we've decided that we aren't going anywhere until we know you're safe. So it looks like it's going to be a long night." Dean declared.

I left them to explain what was going on to Johnny and went out to the Impala to grab my computer bag. It was eerily quiet outside the cabin. There was no traffic noise in the distance, no lights except the golden glow from the windows of the cabin and the silver wash of moonlight. No sound but my hushed footsteps on the grass, and the chirrup of crickets in the trees. I felt like I'd gone back in time a hundred years, and the darkness was made all the more ominous by the sense of isolation. It didn't help that I knew there were monsters out there in the night.

I hurried to the car and got my bag. I grabbed Sam's as well, and my overnight bag. I also loosened my silver knife in its sheath and made sure it was in easy reach. I really didn't think anything was going to attack me, but better safe than sorry. I shot a brief glance at the trunk, where my pistol was safely locked. I considered getting it, but shook my head at my own silliness. I was just spooked. If there was anything out here, the crickets would have gone quiet, and they were still singing.

I loaded the bags over my shoulder and hurried back to the house. I was halfway there when the crickets went silent. A shiver ran down my spine and the hair on my neck stood on end. Dean kept telling me to trust my instincts, and my instincts were telling me that I was being watched. I fought to keep my pace normal, though I wanted to run. I was only ten feet from the porch steps, but it felt like a mile. I startled myself with the sudden sound of my booted feet on the wooden steps, and I almost laughed with relief as I threw open the cabin door.

"Watch your… never mind," came Sam's voice as I slipped inside and closed the door behind me. At his words I looked down and noticed, too late, the line of salt across the threshold. I'd dragged my foot right through it.

I dropped the bags off to one side, "Toss me that canister, I'll fix it. There's something out there." Sam tossed me the salt canister and grabbed another one to finish pouring a line along the sill of the kitchen window.

"What's out there?" Dean asked, suddenly alert. He was sitting on the couch hunched over the coffee table with a notepad and John's journal.

"I don't know. I never saw it. But I felt like I was being watched, and the crickets went quiet." I finished the salt line and closed the canister. "Sam, in your vision, could you tell if the Impala was out front or not?"

Sam shook his head, "The yard was empty when it happened. Whatever it is must be waiting for a chance to get Johnny alone."

"That means it's smart and patient if it's waiting and watching for its chance. That lets us rule out some of the more vicious monsters." Dean commented as he ran his pen through a couple of lines on the notepad. "It doesn't rule out enough of them though."

Johnny came into the room from the hallway. He tossed an empty salt canister in the kitchen trashcan. "That's all the windows and the back door taken care of," he said.

I grabbed up my computer bag and took it to the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. I pulled up a barstool and started setting up my laptop and getting it booted up. Sam double checked all of the salt lines and pulled out his own computer. We settled in for a long night of research and worry.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

It was sometime in the wee hours of the morning when I finally stood and stretched, trying to work the kinks from my back and shoulders. Sam looked up and quietly suggested, "If you want to get a little sleep, too, I don't mind. I can keep at it a while longer."

I glanced over at the couch where Dean was snoring softly and smiled. Johnny had turned in hours ago, not as used to pulling all-nighters as the three of us were. For a guy who could die horribly in the next 24 hours he sure was taking it calmly. "No, I just need to move a little. I'm getting stiff, and my eyes are losing focus."

I wandered over to the front window and looked out. Sam stood and joined me, "Come on and let's go out on the porch. I want to talk to you, and this might be my best chance." He glanced over at Dean's sleeping form.

I nodded and quietly followed him. The night had gotten cooler, and there was a layer of dew dampening the grass and the wood of the porch. The crickets were singing again, and the eerie feeling I'd had earlier was gone. Whatever had been out there before was gone now.

Sam leaned his arms on the porch rail and looked out into the woods. "Andrea… I…" He paused and took a deep breath, "What's coming, what I saw… It's going to be very hard on Dean. He's going to need someone to turn to." He turned and looked at me, and then he put his hands on my arms, "I love you, Andrea. But Dean does, too, and he's going to need you when…" He looked away, staring into the distance, "I don't want him to feel like he's betraying me if he turns to you, so I have to step back. I want you to be with him." His eyes came back to mine, "Please, don't think I'm… I mean… I don't want to hurt you, but we can't…" I could see tears brimming in his eyes as he tried to find the words, but I understood what he was trying to say. I put a finger on his lips.

Tears were trying to escape my eyes, though I struggled to keep them from falling. I'd known this was going to happen, though, honestly, I'd thought it would be Dean pushing me into Sam's arms. I wasn't ready for it though. How do you stop loving someone? How do you tell your heart that it can't ache to have that particular set of strong arms wrapped around you? I opened my mouth to tell him I understood, to tell him that I would learn to live with his choice, but that I would never stop loving him, but all that came out was a sob. I turned and fled, cursing myself for a coward. Tears streamed down my face and I couldn't see where I was going, but I didn't care.

I knew what he'd seen in his future. I'd put the pieces together. Johnny told me that I would have to leave Dean alone at his darkest hour, and Dean's darkest hour could only mean that he'd lost his brother. Sam was pushing me away, stepping out of the way, so that I could be there for Dean when he was gone. It was the only thing that fit. Sam was going to die. My sobs grew and I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming as I finally admitted to myself what had been hovering on the edge of my conscious mind. I sank to my knees in the wet grass, and I huddled against the rough wood of the cabin wall.

It wasn't fair. Why did saving the world mean Sam had to give up his life? Why did Dean and I have to sacrifice the person closest to us for all those other people? Why Sam? My breath was catching in my throat and I could barely breathe around the hiccupping sobs that were being torn from me. I felt a strong, warm arm slip around me and pull me in close. I buried my face in Sam's broad chest and cried. I felt his lips brush my hair as he rocked with me until I calmed enough that I could breathe again. "Why does it have to be you Sam? Why do you have to leave us?" Even though I'd faced it in my mind, I still couldn't say it out loud. But he knew what I was talking about.

"Because there is no other choice. I've seen what would happen if I don't…" His breath hitched, and he couldn't say it either, "If I live, things will be worse. It sucks. It totally blows, but it's the only thing I can do to make sure you and Dean stay safe. Not to mention the rest of the world." I pulled back from him and looked into his eyes. My face must have been a blotchy, swollen, red mess, but he smiled gently at me and said, "You are so beautiful." He ran his long fingers though my hair, "If I could stay with you I would. I never want to leave you"

A tear rolled down his cheek and I caught it with my finger. He turned his head and kissed my finger before I could pull it away. Then he lifted my face to his and kissed me deeply. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close to me. I needed him so badly. I couldn't imagine life without his smile, his deep brown eyes, his handsome, expressive face. But he was here, now, with me, and I held onto him. We held each other, and consoled each other with our bodies. We reminded one another that we were both still alive, that there was time yet before it had to end.

This would be our last chance. He was right. If he was gone, Dean would need me, and Dean would never betray his brother's memory by turning to me afterward if Sam didn't make it clear beforehand that it was ok, that he wanted Dean have someone to turn to, that he wouldn't be jealous. Dean was going to be broken by his brother's death. Sam and I were going to have to keep this a secret, or Dean would never let it happen. I believed Sam when he said that it was the only way, and I would have to respect his decision even though it felt like my heart was being torn from my body at the thought. Could I keep myself from trying to dissuade Sam from doing what he had to do no matter how much it hurt me to lose him? I wanted to fight, I wanted to scream, I wanted to snatch him away from the world and keep him safe forever. But Sam was a hunter, and a hero. I couldn't hide him away from the world. The best I could do was offer comfort now, and try to find a way out of this later.

I trusted Sam as much as I loved him, and if he said this was the only way… But if Dean knew he would fight tooth and nail to keep his brother from being the sacrifice that saved the world.

I pushed those thoughts away and threw myself into the kiss with renewed passion. There was time yet to figure out what to do, to find out if there was another way. Tonight I just needed Sam, and he needed me to be there for him. The kiss grew deeper and our hands began to explore, memorizing the feel and shape of each other's bodies. Even if Sam didn't have to… even if he stayed with us, he was going to pull away from me, and that would be permanent. This was our goodbye.

We made love there in the moonlight, on the wet grass. In our need we didn't care who might be watching, or who might catch us. We had eyes and thoughts only for each other. It was slow and passionate, and it was bittersweet because we both knew it would be the last time. We took our time and savored every moment. And we cried and laughed and held each other, and loved each other with all our hearts.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The sky was starting to turn blue when we finally broke apart with one last kiss. We dressed quietly, everything that needed to be said had already been said. I turned to look for where I'd tossed my shoes and that's when I saw it. I gasped.

"Andrea! What?" Sam spun around to see what had caused my distress. I pointed to the wall of the cabin.

Carved in the wood was a symbol that we'd both seen before, that Dean had once traced out in black tape on a blood stained carpet. It was the sigil of the shadow demons, the Daevas.

Sam ran a hand over the carved symbol, "This is at least two days old. The wood is already starting to change color. Whoever summoned them must have marked the cabin to make sure they came for the right victim."

"This is bad." I said.

"No, actually, this is good. After our last run-in with them I did some research, just incase we ever had to go up against them again. I found a… well, I guess you'd call it an un-summoning. It sends them back to wherever they came from. They can't be summoned again for a year after that. The only drawback is that it's in ancient Sumerian." He turned to head for the front door, and I snatched up my boots and followed, barefoot.

We went in quietly; Dean was still asleep on the couch. Sam grabbed the journal and flipped to the newer pages at the back. He and Dean had been slowly adding to their father's journal for the past two years.

We took the journal to the bar where the light was better and he showed me the incantation, "Here. The thing is, it has to be said just right, and no one living knows exactly what ancient Sumerian is supposed to sound like. I found a pronunciation guide, but we just have to hope that it's right." He started to read the incantation.

"No, that's not right. It should be pronounced _Clatuu Varata Nictuu_, accents on the _Cla_ and _Nic_ parts, not on the _tuu_, and the 'b' sounds more like a 'v'." I stopped, puzzled. Sam's expression said that he was just as puzzled as I was. "Um… I'm not sure how I know that. But I'm certain." I wracked my brain for answers. How could I be so sure that he was saying it wrong? I didn't know what the words meant. Then it hit me, "Khait Kepi! Ever since she gave me her memories, I've been able to read and understand Ancient Egyptian. She used Sumerian chants in her magic. She didn't understand Sumerian, but she knew how it was supposed to sound… So now, I guess I know how it's supposed to sound."

"I thought those memories had faded?" Sam looked at me, concerned.

"Not all the way. I don't dream about her and Banafrit anymore, but every once in a while something still surfaces. I stubbed my toe a couple of weeks ago and caught myself letting out a stream of curses in Egyptian. I just haven't said anything about it because I didn't want to worry you. It's not like she's taking me over or anything… it's just memories. And apparently it's a good thing because I know I'll be saying this spell right when the Daevas show up." I sounded a little defensive, and immediately regretted it, "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I guess I just feel a little guilty for not saying anything about it sooner."

"Well, it's not like you're the first one to keep secrets around here, and in this case, there's no harm done. Just don't let it happen again," he chided me, punching my arm affectionately. He slid the journal around to me so I could read the page, "Here, you take a look at it. I'm going to get some coffee started. I don't know about you, but I could use some caffeine." He glanced over at his sleeping brother, "And I know sleeping beauty over there is going to want some when he wakes up."

Very soon the smell of good coffee filled the small cabin, rousing Dean from his slumber. He rose from the couch and stretched, his hair sticking up from his head at an odd angle. But, even bed-head couldn't detract from his handsome features. "Do I smell the magic brew?"

"Yes, oh sleepy one, it is being distilled from magic beans even as we speak." I smiled at him. "Oh, and good news – we know what's coming and how to deal with it."

"Oh? Do tell." He scratched his belly and wandered into the kitchen to look for a coffee mug.

"We found a Daeva symbol carved into the wall of the cabin this morning. My best guess is that whoever is controlling them marked the place as a target. Andrea is going over the banishing spell right now." Sam handed Dean the mug of coffee he'd been pouring and grabbed another mug from the rack. "And, pronouncing it won't be a problem, because apparently a certain three thousand year old friend of ours downloaded the Hooked on Phonics - Sumerian Edition straight into Andrea's brain."

Dean nearly spit his coffee as Sam added that last part. "What!?"

I sighed, "I still have Khait Kepi's memories floating around up here." I tapped my head. "It's the gift that keeps on giving, and it's a good thing because it's going to keep Johnny alive."

"Well, that's good news to wake up to." Johnny said as he limped into the kitchen and helped himself to the mug of coffee that Sam had just poured. Sam sighed and grabbed a third and fourth mug from the rack. He poured a cupful for me and emptied the last of the pot into his own mug.

"Yes, it is. Because it means that you two can go save the world while I stay here and send the Daevas back to Hell… or where ever it is they came from."

Sam pushed the sugar bowl closer to me, "I'm not too thrilled about the idea of leaving you here to face these things on your own." His forehead furrowed in concern.

"I'm with him… Don't get me wrong, you're a good hunter. A few more years and you'll be a great hunter, but these things…" Dean shook his head to one side crookedly and made a hissing exhale, "I don't know, Andrea. We almost didn't survive our last encounter." He set down his mug and propped both hands on the counter, leaning toward me stiff-armed, holding my eyes with his to emphasize his words, "They're fast, they're invisible, and they're nothing but claws. And to get that incantation to work you have to be close enough to them for them to hear it. If you're that close…" He trailed off; worry clear in his green eyes.

"Dean, Sam… I know this isn't going to be easy, but novice or not, I am a hunter, and I knew this job came with risks when I signed on. The two of you _have_ to be in Illinois by tomorrow if we're going to have any chance against the big bad who wants to end the world. This," I tapped the journal, "is our only option… unless you have another plan?" I looked at both of them and waited for an answer.

Dean scratched his head as he thought. "Gimmie a minute, I'm thinking."

Sam just looked down with a pained expression on his face. They both knew I was right, this was the only way.

Dean looked at Johnny, "What about you? You can see the future… what do you see about this."

Johnny shrugged, "It doesn't work like that. I see what I need to see, and I haven't seen anything about this. I rarely have visions about myself, anyway, and only when it affects someone else's welfare."

"Well, this affects Andrea's welfare, so… can you touch her and see if it will work?" Sam asked.

The blond psychic looked from Sam to Dean, and, seeing their concern written large on their faces, he sighed and reached out his hand to touch my shoulder. He waited a beat, and then shook his head, taking his hand away. "I'm sorry."

"Ok, this is settled," I said with an 'I will not be argued with' tone in my voice. "Here's what we need to do…"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Two hours later we were packing the Impala. Sam was inside talking with Johnny, and I finally had a moment alone with Dean. I handed him Sam's laptop case so he could put it in the trunk. "Dean…" I trailed off. I hadn't really thought about what I was going to say, I only knew that I had to say it before they left.

"Yeah?" he replied, his head still in the trunk as he rearranged things a bit so they would ride better. When I didn't say anything right away he straightened up and turned to look at me. "Andrea? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I shook my head, then I laughed a little at my own silliness, "Look at me… usually I'm running off at the mouth, but now that I have something to say I can't find the words."

"O… K… Andrea, you're weirding me out here, and that's not an easy thing to do, considering…" His eyes bounced back and forth as he studied my face, looking for some clue about what I was going to say.

"Dean, I've made a choice."

"A choi… huh? I'm confused."

"Well," I sighed, "Actually it was Sam's decision. He and I talked last night while you were sleeping. He doesn't feel like he's ready for a relationship. He…" I trailed off, looking for the right way to say it, "He's backing out of or weird three way 'thing.' He wants me to be with you. If you want… I mean… That is…" I sighed. Why did this relationship stuff have to be so hard? "Oh, Goddess, this is going to make me sound so cheap, so I hope you understand the spirit in which it's said, but… I'm yours, if you want me." I looked down, afraid I'd see… rejection, fear, anger, disgust, I don't know what I was afraid of seeing in his eyes, but I was afraid that it would break my heart and I couldn't look.

"This was Sam's decision?"

I nodded, still studying my scuffed boots. Then I felt his hand on my chin as he lifted my face to look at him. What I saw shining in his eyes made my heart leap for joy. He didn't say anything; he just leaned in and kissed me.

When he pulled back he said, "I'm not too sure how I feel about you two talking about me behind my back, but I am sure how I feel about you, Andrea." And he kissed me again before I could say anything, slipping his arms around me to pull me in close.

We were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing his throat behind me. Dean and I pulled back from the kiss and I looked back, my cheeks flaming red.

"I take it you two had a chance to talk." Sam said as he walked to the car to toss in his duffle.

I nodded, "Um, yeah…"

Sam nodded as well and clapped his brother on the arm. Their eyes met and Sam made another small nod, telling his brother without words that it was ok, that he was ok with it, that he was happy for Dean, that it was all good. Dean's eyes also had a lot to say: 'thanks', and 'I'm sorry', and 'I love you, man'. All of that passed between them with that glance and nod. No words were necessary.

The moment passed, and it was back to business. The show must go on, and we could deal with the messy stuff later. "Ok, well, that's the last of our stuff, you two ready to hit the road?" Sam said as he opened the passenger side door.

"Ready if you are," Dean pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed them up and caught them. He rounded the car to the driver's side, and I opened the rear door. I turned and waved at Johnny, who was standing on the porch. He waved back and I got into the car. If whoever wanted Johnny dead was watching they had to think that we were all leaving.

Dean eased the Impala gently down the rutted trail toward the main road. He winced every time a branch scraped against the paint. We estimated that it was about a mile to the road, and that was far enough away for him to drop me off. I slung my pack across my shoulder, then pulled it off again and opened it to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. I was putting on a brave face, but I was quivering inside. My stomach was churning, and I was surprised that my hands weren't shaking.

He eased the big car to a stop at the end of the trail. I re-slung my pack and started to open the door.

"Andrea, be careful." Sam admonished one last time.

I gave him a cocky smile and said, "Always." I gripped his shoulder with a quick, reassuring squeeze.

Dean leaned back over the seat and gave me a brief kiss, "For luck." Then his eyes turned serious, "You come back to us, Andrea." His hand lingered on the back of my neck, and I pressed my forehead to his.

"You know that I will." I wished that I felt as sure as I sounded. I pulled back, and with a brave smile I opened the door and climbed out of the car.

Dean waited until I was hidden just inside the tree line before he pulled away. I watched them pull out of sight, praying to every deity I knew that this wouldn't be the last time I saw them.

I crouched there in the trees and waited. Johnny had called his friend Bruce and asked him to come early with his grocery delivery, and he'd asked Bruce to bring something extra. All I had to do was kill a couple of hours until he showed up.

Leaning back against a tree near the road I made myself comfortable. I played over the plan again and again in my head. This would only work if the Daevas didn't know I was there. There were so many things that could go wrong. I was playing with fire, but this was the only way. There was a series of missing persons in Joliet, Illinois that Sam and Dean had to look into to get the future back on course.

This would be my first solo gig, and my stomach was churning. I had no backup, no safety net. Johnny's life was in my hands, and my hands were trembling. To calm myself down I tried to recall training sessions with Sam and Dean, trying to remember everything they'd taught me. I smiled as I remembered the pillow fight in Richmond. Even that had turned into a training session halfway through, though we'd still had a lot of fun. I was lost in the memory when a silver SUV pulled to a stop at the turn-off to Johnny's place.

The passenger door was pushed open by the driver, and I grabbed my pack and made a dash for it. I recognized Bruce from the TV. His hair was a little longer, and he had worry lines etched a little deeper in his dark skin, but he was the same man. And he was worried for his friend.

"Hey, you must be Andrea." He held out a hand for me to shake before he put the SUV back into gear and eased onto the narrow trail. "I'm Bruce. So, do you want to explain what's going on here? Johnny was pretty cryptic about it on the phone. And what does he want with this huge old trunk, anyway."

I could hear the frustration in Bruce's voice. He'd been dealing with things like this as long as he knew Johnny, and I guess it hadn't gotten any easier for him. But he trusted Johnny, and was always there for him when Johnny needed him. He was a good friend.

"Well, there is something that is going to try to hurt Johnny tonight, and I'm here to stop it. They won't come out to play if they don't think that Johnny is alone, so," I started to climb over the seat as I explained, "I'm going to be hiding in the trunk. Lucky for you two, I'm pretty light."

"Johnny's in danger?" Bruce's eyes were wide with concern as he looked back at me in the rearview mirror. "Why don't we just get him out of here, then?"

"Because these things, these demons, will just keep coming and keep finding him. I have to banish them tonight. But he's still going to need to go somewhere safe afterward. I'll give you the whole story once we get inside, but I have to get out of sight now."

I heard him say "OK" with a resigned, long suffering tone as I climbed into the huge antique wooden chest and pulled the lid shut behind me. It was hot and cramped in the chest, and it made for a very uncomfortable ride on the bumpy trail back to Johnny's cabin. I was grateful when Bruce finally pulled the SUV to a stop near the front porch.

I could hear Bruce and Johnny talking as they unloaded the groceries, and then it was my turn. They grunted and the chest lurched dangerously to the side as they slid it from the back of the SUV. I braced myself as best I could against the inside of the chest, and bit my lip to keep from making any sound. They struggled under the combined weight of me and the heavy wooden chest, straining to get me up the stairs and into the house, and trying not to look like they were straining. I breathed a sigh of relief when the trunk finally came to rest on the floor and I heard the front door close behind us.

Johnny opened the lid and helped me out. I stayed low to keep out of sight from anyone trying to see in the windows. I plopped down on the floor, leaning against the couch in almost the same spot where Sam had sat the night before.

"So, Johnny, are you going to fill me in on what this is all about. Andrea already told me you're in danger." I could hear worry and annoyance at being left in the dark from Bruce as he asked for answers.

"Andrea's friend had a vision that something was coming to kill me. Andrea is a hunter, and she's here to stop it from happening." Johnny left out a lot of the details, but he summed it up pretty well.

"A vision! You mean there's another psychic out there who's seeing things about you, now? Man… I thought things couldn't get much weirder than they already are. I think I liked it better when you were the one doing the saving, though." I couldn't see Bruce from where I was sitting, but I heard him pull out a barstool and sit down. Johnny was in the kitchen putting away his groceries. I wanted to join them, but I had to stay down and out of sight. "So what's coming after you? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You've already done it. Getting Andrea back here unseen was the best help you could have given. You need to be gone by dark, and I don't want you coming back and getting hurt." Johnny paused for a beat then continued, "As for what's after me, Andrea says they're called Daevas. Some sort of shadow demon… Sumerian, I think. She has a ritual to banish them, and all she has to do is say it aloud and they'll go back to wherever they came from. So it's not that big a deal. I'll be fine, Bruce." Johnny was putting up a brave front to keep his friend from worrying.

"Sumerian shadow demons? And you say it's no big deal? Johnny, when this is over I think we need to get you checked out by a shrink, cause you've got something knocked loose upstairs. Someone is trying to kill you, man." Bruce was alarmed by Johnny's apparent lack of concern for his own safety, and so was I.

That's when I broke in, "Johnny, even after I banish the demons, whoever summoned them in the first place is still going to be out there looking for another chance. When this is over I want you to promise me you will leave here and go someplace safe. Go to Bobby Singer's place, or Harvell's, or another hunter you know - any other hunter as long as you can trust them. You need to be near someone who can protect you until we can figure out who wants you dead."

"I already know who wants me dead. And he won't be a problem for much longer, so don't worry. If it makes you feel better I'll go into Cleaves Mills for a few days. It's been a while since I saw Sarah and John, Junior; I'll stay with them, or with Bruce. But I don't think he'll have a chance to try again. The bad guy is going to be busy with other things. I get the feeling that one hermit psychic is pretty low on his priority list." Johnny explained as he put away the last of the groceries and turned to lean on the counter. I was peeking around the end of the couch to see him.

"I guess you can't tell me who's after you because it would mess up the future, right?" There was a note of annoyance in my voice, though I tried to hide it.

Johnny tapped his nose, "Got it in one."

I sighed in frustration. Bruce said, "I've been dealing with Mr. Cryptic for years now. It doesn't get any less annoying. But the man knows what he's talking about."

I nodded, "Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I like it any better." With a stifled yawn I pulled a pillow off the couch and stretched out on the floor. "If you two don't mind, I'm going to catch a few winks before the big showdown. I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Go ahead. We'll try to talk quietly." Johnny said, and as I drifted off to sleep I heard Johnny asking about his son JJ in a low voice. I was glad to know that his family was ok, but sad that things in this world kept him apart from them. The low murmur of their voices as they caught up lulled me into slumber.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

I woke with a start as I hear a door close. My hand snaked under my pillow for the pistol I'd stashed there. It took me a moment to remember where I was and I cracked open an eye and looked around. Johnny was standing at the door, a sad look on his face. He turned to come into the living room and noticed that I was awake.

"Bruce just left. We've still got about two hours before the sun goes down. You hungry?" He spoke softly, barely moving his lips incase anyone was watching. My stomach rumbled and I nodded, rubbing at my eyes. I sat up and gauged the path from where I was to the hallway. I was pretty sure I could make it without being seen from the windows if I stayed low, so I chanced it.

Once I was in the bathroom I leaned on the edge of the sink and took a deep breath. It was nearly show time. Just a couple more hours and I'd be betting mine and Johnny's lives on whether or not I was really cut out to be a hunter. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. "Ok, Andrea, you can do this. It's just three lines of Sumerian, and it will be done." _Yeah, right. Just say the lines. When was anything ever that simple?_

Darkness fell all too soon for my liking. Johnny had made me a sandwich and slipped it to me where I sat next to the couch. We'd sat quietly, him reading a book, me going over the chant and notes that I'd copied into my own notebook. We'd gone over the plan several times that morning while Sam and Dean were still there, and there really wasn't much else to do but wait. But the waiting was nearly done.

Not long after the sun set there was a sound from outside. It sounded like a moan, like someone in pain. It sounded like just the thing to lure Johnny outside to see what was going on. We shared a glance. It was time. Johnny stood and went to the door, using his silver topped cane, even though he really didn't need it to help him walk. I crouched low and moved to stand just behind the door, so that I would be hidden when it opened. My hand went to the light switch that Dean had rigged that morning.

With a deep breath Johnny steeled himself and opened the door. He stepped out onto the porch. I counted to ten. Sam had said there had been about fifteen seconds from the time Johnny stepped out to the attack. I hoped his vision was accurate. When I reached ten, I flipped the switch, turning on the powerful halogen lights we'd rigged up. I stepped out onto the porch already reading the incantation loudly. As I stepped out Johnny went flying to the right from a powerful blow.

I could see the long and clawsome shadows of two the things against the wall of the cabin, and I hurried to finish the chant as one of them closed on me. Johnny wasn't moving, and I was afraid it was already too late. A line of fire tore down my side and my voice faltered as I fell to my knees from the blinding pain. I could feel the warm, sticky blood flowing from the cuts. I struggled to keep speaking, almost done… just a few more words. Another blow rocked my head back and I choked on a mouthful of my own blood.

The second shadow was moving toward where Johnny lay. His hand was twitching, and then moving against the wood as he tried to get it under him to push himself up. He was still alive, but he wouldn't be for much longer. I couldn't get the words out past the searing pain and the thick blood filling my mouth. That last blow had broken my nose, and the next would kill me. I mustered every ounce of will and determination I possessed and spit the blood from my mouth despite the searing pain. I choked out the last three words as I dropped to the porch and rolled to avoid the swinging claw that the shadow of the thing had shown heading toward my head. The blow never landed.

The Daevas screamed with outrage and pain as the last words stumbled off my tongue. They flickered into sight only briefly as the energy that formed them was compressed into a swirling, glowing stream of blue-black smoke and sucked into the ground. Their screams pierced the night and rang in my head for hours afterward.

I lay there hanging halfway off the porch, weak and in pain. I couldn't see Johnny, I didn't know if I'd been in time or not. I was afraid to look, afraid that all I would find was a shredded corpse where a good man had once been.

The crickets were silent, and the world was painted bright silver in the light of the full moon. I stared up at the stars, the tears of pain and fear that filled my eyes making them blur. The warm blood from my wounds trickled down my face and my side, and I knew I couldn't lie there much longer. My heart leapt when I heard movement from the end of the porch where Johnny had been thrown. I tried to push myself up, but the world tilted crazily and my vision grayed around the edges.

Then Johnny was there helping me. He was barely on his feet himself, but he was in better shape than I was. But best of all - he was alive. We'd won! If my wounds didn't kill me I could chalk up my first solo hunt as a success. I laughed past the pain and grabbed his arm tightly, making sure I wasn't dreaming. We were alive!

He helped me to my feet and supported me as I nearly passed out from the pain. We stumbled together into the house. He laid me on the couch and grabbed the phone. Bruce was waiting about five miles down the road at a little tavern, he'd be here in a few minutes. I watched as Johnny re-laid the line of salt across the doorway, then, once I was certain we were safe, I let myself fall into blessed unconsciousness.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Bruce got us patched up. Johnny's wounds weren't too bad. His ribs were bruised, and he had a scratch down one leg, but it wasn't as deep as it could have been. My nose had to be re-straightened, and I needed nearly forty stitches to close the four long scratches that ran down my left side. The Daeva had cut me nearly to the bone. Both of my eyes were black, and one of my front teeth was a little loose.

Lucky for me Bruce was nearly a doctor. Ok, so he was a physical therapist, but he knew enough to patch me up. He'd had plenty of practice with Johnny before the psychic had withdrawn from the world. I had the feeling he was going to get even more practice because the look in Johnny's eyes said he was through hiding. There was a war coming, and we were going to need every soldier we could get.

I was anxious to get on the road. I'd been unconscious for half an hour and it had taken another hour for Bruce to stitch me up. I wasn't in any shape to drive. My nose and eyes were starting to swell up and I was going to have trouble seeing. I needed to catch up to Dean and Sam, I couldn't bear the thought that I might never see Sam again if I didn't get to them before… before whatever Johnny had seen came true. I still couldn't even name it in my head.

I didn't know how much time we had, and I was miserable because I had to let the minutes trickle away laying on Johnny's couch with an icepack on my face. Tears leaked down my cheeks from beneath the icepack. Bruce offered me a painkiller, thinking that it was the wounds that had me in tears, but it wouldn't have helped with the pain I was feeling. I gulped it down anyway. I'm not sure what the pill was, but it didn't take long for it to knock me out.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

I woke just before dawn. Johnny was already up, and he was packing. When I sat up with a wince he came over to me. He looked at the bruising on my face, "I think the swelling is going down already, that ice must have done the trick. I'm going to be riding into town with Bruce. You can take my Jeep." He smiled a gentle smile at me, knowing how badly I needed to get moving. "There's coffee in the pot." He started to turn back to his packing, then stopped and turned back, "Oh, and thank you for saving me. You are a very brave lady." He squeezed my uninjured shoulder and placed the keys to his Jeep on the coffee table.

I ignored the pain that shot through me at every move from the deep cuts in my side, and the throbbing reminder of my broken nose. I grabbed up the keys and my bag and I didn't slow down for coffee or breakfast. I paused at the door to look at Johnny. He nodded to me and made a shooing motion. "Go on, catch up with them. We'll meet again down the road." I didn't waste any more time.

As I pulled the Jeep out onto the road, wincing with every bump, I turned on the radio. I had a long drive ahead of me.

Ramble On, And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song.  
I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl, on my way.  
I've been this way ten years to the day, Ramble On,  
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams.

Got no time to for spreadin' roots, The time has come to be gone.  
And to' our health we drank a thousand times, it's time to Ramble On.

_  
Gonna ramble on, sing my song. Gotta keep-a-searchin' for my baby...  
Gonna work my way, round the world. I can't stop this feelin' in my heart  
Gotta keep searchin' for my baby. I can't find my bluebird!_ -- Ramble On – Led Zepplin


End file.
